I have a memory that's so bad, friends show me photo's of me at games I deny being at.
I took the opportunity to go to the very last competitive game played at Boothferry Park. It was October 3rd 2003, the reserves played a fixture against Barnsley in front of a few hundred people who were all in one part of the west stand as the rest of the ground was unsafe. Needless to say, we lost2-0 and Isiah Rankin scored the last two competitive goals at Boothferry Park.
It was one of the best decisions I made. The place was a shambling wreck. I took the opportunity to explore the south stand and a few other bits I shouldn't have been in. It truly exorcised any ghosts. It was like the funeral of a good friend that had had a full and eventful life, but letting them rest in peace was the right thing for them.
After that, I reckon I scored the last televised goal at Boothferry Park. It was a penalty in front of the south stand.
I'd gone to the ground and found I could walk straight in. I worked out where the bit of East stand terracing I'd watched games from was, and stood there a while before deciding on one last pitch invasion. The grass was probably still there under all the weeds. I headed to the south stand and then, like you see on films, a punctured ball was near enough on what looked to be where the penalty spot should be. I'm sure I could feel the crowd hush as I composed myself and slotted it home.
I later found out someone had set up a camera to film the demolition. The ground was resecured after I left, and the heavy stuff moved in to turn off the life support.
I took the opportunity to go to the very last competitive game played at Boothferry Park. It was October 3rd 2003, the reserves played a fixture against Barnsley in front of a few hundred people who were all in one part of the west stand as the rest of the ground was unsafe. Needless to say, we lost2-0 and Isiah Rankin scored the last two competitive goals at Boothferry Park.
It was one of the best decisions I made. The place was a shambling wreck. I took the opportunity to explore the south stand and a few other bits I shouldn't have been in. It truly exorcised any ghosts. It was like the funeral of a good friend that had had a full and eventful life, but letting them rest in peace was the right thing for them.
After that, I reckon I scored the last televised goal at Boothferry Park. It was a penalty in front of the south stand.
I'd gone to the ground and found I could walk straight in. I worked out where the bit of East stand terracing I'd watched games from was, and stood there a while before deciding on one last pitch invasion. The grass was probably still there under all the weeds. I headed to the south stand and then, like you see on films, a punctured ball was near enough on what looked to be where the penalty spot should be. I'm sure I could feel the crowd hush as I composed myself and slotted it home.
I later found out someone had set up a camera to film the demolition. The ground was resecured after I left, and the heavy stuff moved in to turn off the life support.